To Dance With Danger
by angstydaydreams
Summary: When Danny nearly dies, Steve has to reevaluate what his partner really means to him. McDanno, but nothing explicit. No plot. Total schmoop.
1. Chapter 1

**To Dance With Danger**

**Chapter One**

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, putting every nerve on alert, sending his senses into overdrive. Danny tensed and his eyes locked with Steve's. With a fluid nod, his partner turned and thrust the back of his boot into the door. It sprang open and Danny smoothly jumped through, sweeping his gun in a wide arc as he cleared the entryway and moved towards the staircase. He sensed Steve behind him and traded glances with his partner. They didn't need words to announce his intention of heading upstairs. Silently, Steve left the upper levels to Danny while he moved into the living room.

Two HPD cops were even now breaching the back door, tasked with helping Danny and Steve clear and search the house. Chin and Kono were leading a battalion of other HPD cops in a search of the barn and outbuildings.

The case was a bad one. Six prostitutes tortured and murdered in the past six months. Autopsies had revealed the women had been kept alive for several days before their assailant had finally grown tired of playing with them, and had slit their throats. Very little headway had been made in the case until two nights ago. When a female undercover went missing, the Governor had called in 5-0. There was a chance Officer Yoshimi Ito was still alive, but the odds grew slimmer with every passing hour.

Just when they'd run out of leads, they'd finally gotten a break. A homeless woman claimed to have seen a man force a woman fitting Yoshimi's description into a white van. Chin and Kono had worked their magic with traffic cams in the area and had gotten a license plate. That in turn had led them here, to the home of one Harold Jeong. An unremarkable man with an unremarkable job who had undoubtedly done unspeakable things.

A door banged open upstairs and a woman's scream pierced the air.

"Steve," Danny yelled, "Up here!"

Danny gripped his gun and charged up the rest of the stairwell. As he hit the landing, he warily began to edge along the hallway.

A woman, her naked body covered in blood staggered out of a nearby doorway. Her feet were dragging on the flooring, catching on each other, making her stumble. She staggered against the opposite wall and fell to the floor with an agonized moan.

Danny lunged forward even as the woman began a desperate slow crawl down the hallway.

"Yoshimi?" Danny called, sprinting towards the brutalized woman.

She looked up, her brown eyes catching Danny's and widening in disbelief. She let out a small sob and nodded as Danny reached down to pull her to her feet.

Yoshimi gasped in pain. She cast a terrified glance towards the doorway from which she'd just escaped.

"He's…coming…" she cried, her chest heaving.

It happened fast. Danny swung around at the blur of motion in the corner of his eye. Harold Jeong stood in the doorway, blood pouring from a wound in his head, a gun drawn in his hand.

Danny shoved Yoshimi behind him and was about to raise his weapon when the first bullet hit him. Two more shots followed, driving Danny backwards.

Pain exploded in Danny's chest and his legs turned to rubber. He felt himself falling. His lungs screamed for air. His gun slipped through numbed fingers. His vision grayed out and distantly he thought he heard Yoshimi shriek and Steve yell.

There was no time. Blood pounded in Danny's head. Jeong's legs brushed past him. Yoshimi sobbed in terror. Unsteadily, Danny lashed out, wrapping his arms around Jeong's lower body and throwing all his weight against him. Blindsided by the unexpected tackle, Jeong went down, his gun skittering across the hardwood flooring.

With an enraged holler, Jeong kicked and bucked, struggling to loosen Danny's hold on him. Tenaciously, Danny hung on, fingers finding a purchase in the pockets of Jeong's jeans. The two men fought and rolled, twisting and turning. Viciously Jeong kicked out at his attacker, pummeled Danny's head and shoulders with his hands, but Danny refused to let go.

Half blind from pain and lack of air, Danny didn't notice how close they were to the staircase until he and Jeong plummeted over the edge. A tangled heap, they pitched head over heels, helpless against the rules of gravity that forced them downward, their bodies bouncing off of unyielding plywood until finally coming to a crashing halt at the bottom.

Danny groaned. Or at least he thought he did. His ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't hear much of anything. He tried opening his eyes, but it just made the room spin so badly that his stomach cramped with nausea. He squeezed them shut, swallowing against the rising taste of bile in the back of his throat.

Vaguely he became aware of Chin and Steve's presence at his side. Strong hands held the sides of his head in a vise, holding it still. Narrowly he opened his eyes, squinting cautiously upwards. Chin peered down at him, dark eyes liquid with concern.

Danny's chest was so tight he could barely breathe. He clutched at his chest in panic, his fingers tangling with Steve's arms. He opened his mouth in a desperate attempt to suck in air.

"Easy, Danny," Steve murmured, gently pushing Danny's hands back down to his sides. "I'm trying to get the vest off. Just don't move, okay? Paramedics are on the way."

After what seemed like an eternity to Danny, the vest finally loosened and Steve carefully maneuvered it free from Danny's torso. It helped some, but not a lot. And then Steve pressed his fingers to Danny's ribcage. Danny bucked in pain, a low moan catching in his throat.

"Sorry," Steve set his hands on Danny's shoulders. "Sorry, buddy. Hang in there. EMT's are just a few minutes out."

"Yosh…" Danny gasped, panting shallowly in and out. It felt like he was clinging to consciousness by his very fingernails, and before he lost his grip, he needed to know if Yoshimi was okay. He grit his teeth and forced his eyes open, staring intently at his partner. "How's…Yoshimi?" he ground out.

Steve glanced over him, exchanging a look with Chin.

"Kono's with her," Steve finally said, softly squeezing Danny's shoulder. "Don't try to talk, Danno."

Steve glanced up and Danny saw a look of relief wash over his face. Steve lifted one hand and waved, calling, "Over here."

The clatter of a gurney came next. And then two baby-faced men joined the faces peering down at him from above. An oxygen mask was placed over his nose and mouth, and finally the cobwebs filling his brain began to clear. At about the same time he felt a sharp pinch in the back of his hand. It took him a moment to realize one of the paramedics was talking to him.

"…Detective Williams. Can you hear me? Danny?"

Danny's attempt to nod was cut short by a tightening of Chin's fingers around his temples and jawline.

"Can you squeeze my hand, Danny?" the paramedic said as he slid his fingers into the palm of Danny's right hand.

"Yeah," Danny winced as he forced his eyes open. He squeezed his fingers around the paramedic's hand even as he felt his shirt being unbuttoned, and a brush of cool air against his exposed skin.

He groaned as fingers gently probed his ribcage, and felt the cool burn of a stethoscope on his chest as the paramedic gripped his other hand and asked him to squeeze for the second time.

He couldn't deal with it. There was too much going on at once. His senses were in overload. His body was out of his control. He was at the mercy of the paramedics, and even though they tried to explain to him what they were doing, he couldn't keep up. Time kept slipping. Seconds sliding into minutes. Or maybe he was just fading in and out.

He felt his arm rotated out to the side and something was wrapped tightly around his bicep. It squeezed his upper arm until it hurt. His mind was just making the connection to a blood pressure cuff when a pair of hands traveled down his legs, hitting a tender spot on his right knee that made him cry out in pain.

He squirmed as that same pair of hands trapped his knee in a stiff splint and then lightening quick his neck was captured by the hard plastic of a cervical collar. It bit uncomfortably into his chin. He panicked. Danny knew they were only trying to help him, but there were too many hands on his body, holding him, keeping him still as they rolled him over, and then rolled him back onto a hard unyielding surface. His head was strapped down and his arms firmly secured over his abdomen so tightly, that movement was impossible. His heart picked up speed and even though he hadn't thought it was possible, it got even harder to breathe.

The world suddenly tilted and he was lifted up into the air before being set down on the gurney. He was dizzy, his body breaking out into a cold sweat, and he was sure he was going to be sick.

Then he felt Steve's hand on his arm. He knew it was Steve, recognized those long fingers and the gentle squeeze. Heard the reassuring tones of Steve's voice even if he couldn't make out the words. His stomach settled and the tightness in his chest eased just a little. The gurney bounced along, but Steve's hand never broke contact, not even when the gurney was lifted up into the ambulance.

With Steve's steady presence at his side, his mind began to wander to Yoshimi Ito and Harold Jeong. He didn't know if either of them was alive. Danny couldn't help but hope Jeong hadn't survived the fall. If he was dead, there'd be no need for defense lawyers, trials and deals. With him gone, the evil he'd brought into the world would have gone out with him.

He must have faded out again because the next thing he knew someone was forcing his eyelid open and spearing him with a bright light. Pain spiked in his head and he moaned. Powerless to close his eyelid, move his head or lift his arms, he felt his eye tearing until the assault was finally over. The reprieve lasted only seconds, as the torture was repeated on his other eye.

When the light was finally removed, he was embarrassed to feel tears trailing down his cheeks.

There was a slight pat on his shoulder, and a gruff voice said, "Sorry about that Detective Williams. Looks like you have a bit of a concussion. Not surprising, considering the fall you took."

"Steve?" Danny slurred. But there was no reassuring whisper in his ear or comforting squeeze of his fingers in response.

"Your partner's waiting outside," a soft female voice sounded from somewhere off to the side.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut, mortified that his tears refused to stop flowing. But he was scared and despite the medical personnel hovering over him, he felt completely alone. Completely helpless. Gloved fingers palpated, poked and prodded nearly every inch of his body, they worked their slow torturous way along his legs and arms, stomach and ribcage. He cried out at the pain. He moaned as they pressed their stethoscopes firmly against his chest, marching the cold bell inch by inch from his shoulders to his abdomen, the pressure making every breath even more painful than it already was.

And all he wanted was Steve. To hold his hand. To tell him that everything was going to be okay. Because he was terrified that it wasn't.

He shivered miserably. They'd removed his shoes and socks, cut away his pants, boxers, and shirt. They'd draped a thin hospital gown over him but it did nothing to protect him from the cold. Someone must have seen because suddenly he was covered to the neck by a blanket, though it took a while for the shivers to stop.

He'd faded out again after that, because he didn't remember them taking the X-Rays that allowed him to be released from the C-collar and backboard. Didn't remember being taken down for a CT scan. But when he woke up he was no longer restrained, the head of his gurney had been slightly raised, his knee was braced and propped on a pillow and the oxygen mask had been replaced by a nasal cannula.

Danny tried to focus, to concentrate and listen as the doctor pulled a stool next to the gurney and explained to him what was going on. He thought he must have faded out again because the next thing he knew, Steve was there. His partner was giving him a big shit eating grin as he leaned over the rails of the gurney. Just as if he were looking at a brand new shipment of tear gas grenades and not his broken partner. Danny couldn't take his eyes off of him.

"Detective Williams? You back with us?" The doctor gave Danny a scrutinizing look.

"Hey Danny," Steve lightly squeezed his shoulder. "How're you feeling?"

Danny's fingers twitched at his side and Steve enveloped his hand with his own, holding it firmly but gently. Danny gazed up at his partner, drinking him in, feeling grounded for the first time since he'd fallen down those stairs with Jeong. But there was worry and concern in Steve's eyes, his forehead was pinched, his mouth a little tighter than normal. And Danny was sorry that he was the one who had caused it.

"Danny?" Steve rubbed Danny's wrist gently with his thumb and leaned forward. "Talk to me buddy, you okay?"

For Steve, Danny made the effort. Steve carried enough pain without him adding to the burden. He inhaled, wincing in discomfort, and only managing a weak whisper. "Chest hurts…kinda hard to breathe…can't…focus."

"You took quite a hit to both your head and your chest," the doctor murmured, his eyes somber with concern. "Do you remember my name?"

Carefully Danny shook his head - no. He didn't remember actually speaking to the doctor before now.

"I'm Dr. Carry. We've actually met a couple of times now, but short-term memory loss is very common with head injuries. Luckily, you managed to avoid any fractures or bleeds. We'll run one more follow up CT to be sure, but I'm not too worried."

"What _are_ you worried about, Doc?" Steve interjected, his fingers subconsciously tightening around Danny's, the blue of his eyes flattening into grey and if it was at all possible, the set of his jaw became even sterner. He looked for all the world as if he was about to go into battle. But on this battlefield, there was absolutely nothing he could do.

Danny gripped Steve's hand, tugging gently at his fingers until Steve tore his eyes away from the doctor's and glanced down at him. Danny felt his breath catch in his throat at the intensity of that gaze and knew it had nothing to do with the injuries to his chest.

"Stand down babe…okay?" Danny murmured. He held onto Steve's eyes until the other man finally nodded, the lines on his face relaxing just slightly. Only then did Danny turn to look at his doctor. Carefully he took a breath. "Give it…to me straight…Doc. What's…wrong with me?"

Dr. Carry smiled reassuringly at Danny. "We have two areas of concern. First, your chest took quite a hit when you were shot. So far, I'm encouraged by the results of all your cardiac tests. I think we got lucky there as I'm not seeing any damage to your heart. You do, however, have a serious pulmonary contusion, along with a sternal fracture. Both are going to leave you in some pain for a while."

"And the second thing?" Danny asked. He shifted slightly in the bed, wincing at the sharp ache that blossomed in his chest and abdomen.

"The CT turned up a grade one splenic tear," Dr. Carry said.

"Will Danny have to have surgery?" Steve interjected sharply, his eyes darting worriedly towards his partner.

"Not necessarily," Dr. Carry flipped through Danny's chart. "Danny's vitals are stable and as long as they stay that way the tear will most likely resolve itself."

"Bottom line it, Doc," Danny said hoarsely, his mind having difficulty processing the medicalese. He just needed to know, in simple terms, if he was going to be okay. He felt Steve's fingers tremble and then they tightened around Danny's hand.

"It means that for at least the next twenty four to forty eight hours you're going to be a guest in our Surgical Intensive Care Unit while we keep an eye on your pulmonary contusion as well as the splenic tear," Dr. Carry explained kindly. "We'll treat you with oxygen and analgesics and with any luck, neither condition will get any worse than it already is."

"And if it does?" Danny asked. His head was spinning, and he wasn't sure if it was because of his struggle for oxygen or his struggle to understand the doctor's words.

"Worst case scenario for the pulmonary contusion is that we have to put you on a ventilator while we give your lungs time to heal," Dr. Carry said somberly. "As for your spleen, if it ruptures, then surgical intervention would be necessary. But these are worst case scenarios," the doctor reminded Danny as he closed Danny's chart. "Even if they come to pass, that's why we're keeping you in intensive care. So in the meantime, and I know it's hard, try not to worry about it. The best thing you can do is rest, okay?

Danny closed his eyes and nodded, but he wasn't all that reassured by his doctor's words. Cut through all the crap and it came down to one thing: wait and see. He couldn't even assure Gracie he was going to be okay without possibly making a liar out of him.

Dr. Carry patted him gently on the shoulder. "The orderlies should be here shortly to take you up to the SICU. I'll check in on you later."

"Can I go up with him?" Steve asked, though it wasn't really a question. The tone in Steve's voice made it clear there was only one acceptable response.

"Of course," Dr. Carry nodded. "Once there, just give the nurses a few minutes to get him settled."

Steve glanced down at Danny. "I should call Rachel."

Danny shook his head. It was irrational, but he didn't want Rachel to know. He didn't want Grace sensing something was wrong.

Steve sighed. "Danny, the press doesn't have your name yet, but it's only a matter of time. It'd be better if they didn't find out that way, don't you think?"

"Shit," Danny breathed. He closed his eyes and chewed on his bottom lip before finally looking back up at Steve and nodding.

"I'll make sure Rachel keeps Gracie away from the local news," Steve assured Danny softly.

"Rachel's gonna have to tell her," Danny said limply in defeat. "Or one of her friends might end up texting her first." He looked up at Steve and pleaded, "Tell them not to come down here. I don't..." Danny groaned, beads of sweat popping out on his forehead as a band of pain gripped his chest. He gasped for air. His eyes watered and he turned panicked eyes towards Steve.

"Just breathe, Danno," Steve soothed, gripping Danny's wrist and laying the palm of his hand on Danny's forehead. "You're okay, just breathe."

Danny panted shallowly, every breath feeling like knives plunging into his breastbone. He dug his fingers into Steve's hand. He saw Steve look over his head, past him, towards the back of the trauma room and then something cool was shooting through his veins. Pain medication, he knew, because the agony began to ease. He felt floaty, his mind fogging up, his hold on consciousness slipping slowly away.

Danny clumsily gripped Steve's hand. Blearily he looked up at him, his eyes wet. His voice was slurred. "Please Steven. Don't want…Gracie…to see this."

"Okay, Danny," Steve nodded, his eyes unwavering as he firmly held on to Danny's hand. "I get it. I'll tell Rachel to bring Grace when you're feeling up to it."

Danny nodded, closing his eyes. Steve was gently running his fingers through his hair. It felt so good. He didn't think to puzzle out that this wasn't typical co-worker behavior. Something nagged at him and he forced his eyes open. "Yoshimi?" he whispered.

Steve sighed, his eyes clouding with sorrow. His hand stilled on the top of Danny's head. "I'm sorry Danny. She bled out before the EMT's even got there."

"And Jeong?" Danny growled, his lips trembling as he clamped them shut.

"They're operating on him right now. He fractured his skull. They don't know if he's going to make it," Steve said softly.

"_Good,_" Danny said, his blue eyes turning to ice. "I hope he dies up there."

"I can't disagree. He would be doing the world a favor," Steve responded quietly. He twined Danny's hair in his fingers. "Don't think about that right now, Danny. Go to sleep. You need to rest."

Under Steve's tender ministrations, Danny's eyes fell closed. His thoughts were a jumble. He was angry and sad. Yoshimi had been a good cop, doing her duty. She'd put her life on the line, using herself as bait to draw Harold Jeong out into the open. It had backfired. It had gotten her killed.

It had almost gotten him killed. He'd taken three bullets to the chest. Catapulted down a flight of stairs. And the jury was still out on whether or not he was going to be okay.

Distantly, Danny felt Steve's hands lift from his head, felt his partner pull away.

Danny's eyes shot open. "Steve?" he moaned.

"It's okay Danny," Steve snagged Danny's hand back. "I was just getting a stool. I'm not going anywhere. Shhh…go back to sleep."

And then Steve's fingers were again gently working their way through his hair. Danny's eyes slid shut. But he couldn't help thinking as he drifted off that what had happened to Yoshimi was a harsh reminder. At some point, everyone's luck ran out. And when the cards were against you, there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Tbc..


	2. Chapter 2

**To Dance With Danger**

**Chapter Two**

Steve sighed, leaning wearily against the doorframe of Danny's cubicle in the Surgical Intensive Care Unit. His eyes strayed to the other side of the unit, to the uniformed officer who guarded the door of the comatose Herald Jeong. He'd made it through surgery, though the doctors didn't know if he'd ever regain consciousness. He tore his gaze away and glanced down at his watch. It was getting late and he was bone tired.

Danny had woken up when they'd transferred him to the SICU, and it had taken the nurses some time to get him comfortable. Until they'd raised the head of his bed to a forty-five degree angle, he hadn't seemed able to catch his breath, his reedy complaints delivered in short breathy gasps. Much to his caregiver's relief, he'd finally dozed off about a half hour ago, after an increase in his pain medication.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and studied his sleeping partner. His head lolled to one side on the pillow, his mouth hanging slightly open. The nasal cannula rested snugly just under his nose, the tubing wrapping around his ears and under his chin. Leads to the cardiac monitor poked out of the top of his hospital gown and Steve could see the bottom of a blood pressure cuff peeking out from under the sleeve. A pulse ox clipped to his right index finger rounded out the assortment of monitoring equipment.

He also sported an IV in the back of his left hand. Underneath the translucent tape holding it in place, Steve could see where the needle dug into Danny's skin.

Steve's stomach twisted. What a clusterfuck this whole case had been. One officer dead and Danny in the ICU.

He knew Danny was still reeling from the news of Yoshimi's death. He'd thrown himself in front of her, taking three shots to the chest that had been meant for her. And it had all been for nothing. Yoshimi had died anyway. The pretty young detective had bled out in the very hallway where Danny had tried so desperately to save her. Where she had tried so desperately to save herself.

"Didn't your mom ever tell you…if you keep making that face…it might freeze and stay that way forever," Danny winced with every inhalation, his blue eyes blinking hazily up at Steve.

"What?" Steve startled, staring at his partner in surprise.

"_Aneurism_ face, Steven," Danny weakly waved one hand towards Steve. "If you're not careful…your face is going to get stuck that way forever."

"You should be sleeping, and not talking," Steve crossed over to the side of Danny's bed and glared down at his partner.

"Your constipated look…isn't much better," Danny commented dryly, slowly raising one hand to rub at his eyes. His upper lip twitched as he bit back a slight moan.

"Pain's pretty bad, huh?" Steve asked softly, settling into the chair next to Danny's bed. "Want me to get the nurse?"

Danny gave a quick shake of his head and closed his eyes. He clenched his jaw and ground out, "I didn't know it could hurt so much to breathe." After taking several careful breaths, Danny glanced up at Steve, his blue eyes somber. "I guess I should be thankful I'm alive."

"We all are, buddy," Steve agreed softly. He pulled a chair next to the bad and sat down. "I called Rachel."

"Thanks," Danny winced, pulling one arm tightly across his midsection. "Grace okay?"

Steve leaned forward and nodded. "She's a tough kid. Just like her dad. She wants to come see you."

"Maybe tomorrow," Danny murmured, his eyelids drooping. He forced his eyes open and reached a hand towards Steve.

Steve took it, fondling Danny's smaller sturdy fingers with his own.

"Thanks Steven," Danny slurred, his fingers going lax.

"Don't mention it," Steve said softly. Gently he set Danny's hand down on the mattress, covering it with his own. Danny was struggling to keep his eyes open, and failing miserably. Steve tenderly ran slow circles over the back of Danny's hand with his thumb. "Don't fight it, Danno. Go to sleep."

"Always…so bossy," Danny grumbled. But his eyes slid closed and he slowly drifted off.

Steve settled in his chair. Danny was sleeping soundly now, his breath snuffling softly in his throat. He looked like a little kid. Blond hair tousled against the pillows. Blue sheets and blankets slightly rumpled. His face open and vulnerable.

Steve sighed, exhaustion sending a shiver through his body. His very bones felt like they weighed a ton. But he wouldn't leave Danny. Couldn't stop looking at him. Couldn't erase from his mind what it had felt like for that one second he'd thought Danny was dead. He'd heard the gunshots, seen his partner and Jeong tumbling pell mell down the long flight of stairs. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him—he literally couldn't breathe. Until Danny let out a groan and Steve had sprung to his side, leaving HPD to deal with Jeong.

Danny had been muttering Yoshimi's name over and over again, getting more and more agitated, trying to push himself up. When Chin and Kono had run into the house, he'd needed Chin to help him with Danny. Kono had run upstairs to the fallen officer. She'd offered comfort to Yoshimi, holding the girl's hand as she'd slipped away. Right now he knew Chin was taking care of Kono. Just as he was taking care of Danny. Everyone was where they should be. Where they needed to be. There was a simple truth at work here, no matter how much he'd tried to fight it. At Danny's side was where he belonged.

**H50**

Danny awoke with a start, moaning slightly as the movement jostled his bruised chest and aching stomach. His head hurt, his mind was woozy and clouded. For a second, he didn't remember where he was.

"Danny? Take it easy. You're okay, babe."

Danny winced. The more aware he became the more the pain intensified. He felt every bruise and every stiff joint. His knee throbbed. Breathing was a painful reminder that he'd been shot three times in the chest.

"Danny?" Steve gently clasped Danny's forearm. "You need me to get the doctor?"

Danny forced his eyes open, squinting tentatively up at Steve. He couldn't help but marvel at this man. He looked like hell. His face wore a strain Danny had only seen once before—when he thought Mary might be dead. And yet his voice was steady as a rock, soothing and comforting, because he knew that was what Danny needed.

"M'okay," Danny mumbled, determined to make it true just to get that look out of Steve's eyes. Not to mention the last thing he wanted was any more poking and prodding by his doctor.

"You're a liar," Steve shook his head knowingly. He may have been exhausted but his sharp eyes missed nothing. "I'll get the nurse."

"Don't go," Danny blurted. He fumbled for Steve's hand, their fingers tangling together. He couldn't explain the near panic that had him clutching at Steve. To be honest, it embarrassed him and he could feel the flush in his cheeks.

"Sorry," Danny muttered, closing his eyes and letting go of Steve's hand.

"I'm not going anywhere," Steve said intently, squeezing Danny's hand. "Look at me Danno."

Danny bit his lip and looked up, prepared for Steve to think he'd utterly lost his mind.

Instead Steve leaned forward, his free hand ghosting Danny's cheek. "I'm not going anywhere, Danny. But you don't have to be in pain."

Danny nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. He let go of Steve's hand, watching as Steve ducked out of his room and went in search of a nurse.

Guilt tugged at him. He had no right to make Steve stay. They were partners, but they weren't "partners." Every once in a while he felt that maybe Steve felt the same pull of attraction that he felt for Steve, but if he did, the other man never acted on it.

And Danny wasn't five. He didn't need someone to hold his hand. Steve was making himself sick watching over him—enough was enough. It was time for Danny to man up and face this alone.

Resolved to what he had to do, Danny waited until the nurse had checked over his vitals, injected his pain meds into his IV and left the cubicle.

As Steve turned to sit back down in the chair at Danny's bedside, Danny said, "You don't have to stay, babe. I'm all right."

"Not leaving," Steve shook his head, plopping himself back down in the chair.

"I'm not the only one who needs to rest," Danny blinked his eyes. He could feel the medication in his veins, pulling him under.

"Not leaving," Steve repeated, taking Danny's hand in his own.

"So…stubborn…." Danny murmured, drifting back to sleep. Of course he'd never tell Steve that for once, he was glad of it.

**H50**

Steve groaned in annoyance at the sound of his alarm. His arm shot out, reflexively looking for the instrument that was making the obnoxious high-pitched noise. All he wanted to do was make it stop.

He jolted to awareness at the same time medical personnel rushed into Danny's room. He stumbled, trying to get out of their way even as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on.

One glance at Danny's monitors told him that Danny's blood pressure had dropped precipitously.

Danny was barely conscious, his blue eyes peeked out from under lids at half mast, and Steve didn't know whether he saw him or not. A nurse removed the nasal cannula, replacing it with an oxygen mask.

"Let's get him up to the OR, now." Dr. Carry snapped. "Or we're going to lose him people."

Expertly the hospital staff readied Danny's hospital bed for transport, unhooking leads and wires from the wall. Within seconds they'd swung his bed out of the cubicle and were hurtling down the hallway towards the elevator.

Steve stared after them, speechless, his eyes full of shock and fear. He was completely inert. His feet leaden. Powerless to move. He remained that way for a long time afterward.

**H50**

Danny hurt. It was an ache that reached deep inside, throbbing and pulsing with every breath. His stomach. His chest. Every joint and muscle. Even his throat hurt, and his mouth was painfully dry. And he couldn't seem to either wake up or go to sleep. He drifted in a sort of weird limbo, aware yet unaware at the same time.

Gradually the balance began to tip. Whispers of sound crept into his awareness, the murmur of voices, mechanical whirs and whistles and beeps. He thought he felt someone holding his hand. And yet he still couldn't wake up. Couldn't overcome the paralysis that gripped his body like a vice. It began to frustrate him. He struggled to remember what had happened. He fought to break through the cottony web separating him from the waking world.

Then he did. And he immediately began to choke. Something was in his throat, gagging him. He couldn't breathe. Panicking, he tried to tear it out. His eyes flew open and he arched upwards. Fighting, kicking, struggling. And then the pain hit. It was sharp and agonizing. He tried to scream, but his voice was trapped by that _thing_ in his throat.

Then there were hands on him, forcing him down. There were voices and shouts. Strangers hovered over him. Something icy and cold began creeping up his arm. It took the fight out of him. He collapsed boneless, still choking. Sure he was about to die.

Then one voice broke through, and a familiar hand grabbed his.

"Danny!"

It was Steve. He could have sobbed with relief. He immediately relaxed and he felt sweet oxygen flood his lungs.

"Danny! Calm down - you're okay. You have a tube down your throat. I know it feels like it's killing you, but it's helping you breathe. Can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?"

Danny turned his head towards the sound of Steve's voice and peered up at him. Out of instinct he tried to speak, and once again the horrible sense of choking descended upon him. Steve's pressure on his hand increased.

"I know it's hard Danny, but you have to stop fighting the tube," Steve soothed.

Danny closed his eyes, tried to do what Steve told him, and soon found himself drifting. He thought it was just for a second, but when he opened his eyes again, everything had changed.

He licked his lips and coughed. The tube in his throat was gone, though he could feel air circulating just under his nose. As he turned his head, he felt the tubing from the nasal cannula against his cheek. The room wouldn't focus, and he blinked until his vision cleared, his eyes finally settling on Steve seated just to his right. He tried to lift his arm, but all he managed to do was twitch his fingers, lightly brushing his partner's hand, which was resting on the side of the bed.

Steve startled, sitting straight up in his chair. His eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "Danny!" Steve smiled, grabbing Danny's hand.

"Hey," Danny whispered, his voice cracking.

"Hey," Steve grinned. "How are you feeling?"

"What the hell happened?" Danny rasped. He closed his eyes and winced. His throat felt like it was lined with knives.

"There were…complications," Steve said softly. "Hold on."

He stood up and walked swiftly to the door, leaning outside and motioning to someone in the hall. When he returned to Danny's side he was carrying a cup of ice.

"Here," Steve gently slid a piece into Danny's mouth. "This should help a bit."

Danny nodded, closing his eyes as he sucked on the ice, relishing the feel of the cool water as it ran down his throat.

"Better?" Steve asked.

Danny nodded, then opened his eyes again. "How bad?"

"You're doing fine now," Steve said as he slipped another ice chip into Danny's mouth. "Your vitals have been stable for the last twelve hours. Doctors want to watch you just a while longer, but you should be in your own room by tomorrow night."

"Then twelve hours ago I wasn't fine?" Danny concluded, arching an eyebrow at his partner.

"Twelve hours ago…" Steve shrugged and sighed. He slumped in his chair. "It was touch and go."

"What happened?" Danny repeated. He tried to get his arms under him to push himself up, but pain lanced through his stomach and chest.

"Easy there, buddy," Steve cautioned, putting a restraining hand on Danny's shoulder. When the lines of pain on Danny's face eased, he adjusted the bed controls until Danny was in a semi-reclining position. "You're going to be a little tender for a while until the incision heals."

"Incision?" Danny panted lightly, closing his eyes until the pain notched back to a dull ache.

"The bleeding didn't resolve itself," Steve explained. "You started to hemorrhage and they had to go in. Luckily, they were able to save a good part of your spleen."

"How long?" Danny winced, his throat acting up again. Gratefully he took the ice chip Steve placed against his lips.

"Six days," Steve informed him softly. "Your lungs were already so weak from the contusions that they placed you under heavy sedation and kept you on the ventilator after the surgery."

"_Six days_?" Danny yelped, looking over at Steve in shock. He began to cough, sending waves of agony through his abused throat, chest and stomach.

Steve leapt up, putting one hand supportively to Danny's chest until the coughing finally stopped. Danny blinked up at Steve through watery eyes.

Danny took a breath to speak again but the words died in his throat when his partner held one hand up and firmly shook his head.

"Danny," Steve glowered down at him even as his lips quirked into a broad grin. "Would you _please_ stop. I will literally pay you money to stop talking."

Danny couldn't help but faintly grin back. Their relationship was still as contentious as it had been back when they'd first met, but it was now grounded in respect, and friendship. Danny also knew he loved him, even if it never went beyond the platonic. Though it still didn't stop him wanting to kill the guy on a nearly daily basis.

"Now, before you feel the need to aggravate your throat again and ask. Grace and Rachel are fine. Grace has drawn you about a hundred pictures and as soon as you feel up to it she'll come and give them to you personally," Steve smiled.

"Thank you," Danny said hoarsely.

"Gracie said to tell you when you woke up that she loves her Danno and she misses you very much," Steve said softly.

"I miss her, too. Tell her I'm sorry," Danny whispered, his eyes misting. He couldn't imagine how hard the last six days must have been for his little girl. Once again it crossed his mind how much easier life would be for her if her father wasn't a cop.

"This wasn't your fault, Danny," Steve said firmly, squeezing Danny's shoulder. "If the situation was reversed, you'd tell me the same thing. _Loudly,_" Steve grinned. "Vociferously. Stridently."

"Such big words, Steven," Danny rasped, rising to Steve's bait. "I had no idea you were such a scholar."

"Contrary to your opinion, I'm not a Neanderthal. I read, Daniel," Steve gave Danny a disgruntled look, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Guns and Ammo," Danny cautiously shrugged his shoulders and smirked impudently back at Steve. "Back of the cereal box, maybe."

Steve chuckled, tossing his friend an amused smile, "Well it's official. You're definitely feeling better. Back to your old charming self."

"Thank you," Danny said softly. His eyelids were growing heavy and he found himself struggling to keep them open.

"Don't fight it, Danny," Steve advised, sitting back down in the chair next to Danny's bed. "Your body still has a lot of healing to do. Sleep is the best thing for you."

"Is Jeong still alive?" Danny forced his eyes open and looked at Steve. "'Cause I think I'd sleep a lot better knowing he wasn't."

"Don't waste your energy thinking about Herald Jeong," Steve said darkly. "He coded about the same time you did. Only he didn't make it back. Now are you going to go to sleep or do I need to call a nurse in here to knock you out?"

Danny cocked his head at Steve, peering at him intently through half closed lids. "What aren't you telling me, babe?" he asked knowingly.

"Nothing," Steve shrugged.

"That's not a _nothing_ face," Danny observed.

"Nothing face?" Steve exclaimed, frowning at Danny in annoyance. "How can a face be nothing? I don't even know what that means."

"Well you have one," Danny insisted, waving one hand weakly at his partner. "And this isn't it."

"You don't even make any sense," Steve's brow furrowed in aggravation.

"Why are you avoiding the question?" Danny shook his head at his partner. "What aren't you telling me?

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and bristled. He scowled down at Danny. "Fine. You want to know? You scared the fucking crap out of me. I thought you were going to die and all I could think was that I never told you…"

Steve deflated as quickly as he'd exploded, sinking onto the mattress. He stared helplessly at Danny in silence.

"You never told me what, babe?" Danny asked softly, reaching for Steve's hand.

"I'm sorry, Danny," Steve said huskily. "I'm an idiot. I'm such a goddammed idiot."

"Steve," Danny started. He was stopped by Steve's finger, placed gently on his lips.

"You almost died," Steve's voice broke. "Jesus. You almost…." He clamped his mouth shut and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

When Steve opened his eyes again, his voice had steadied. He moved his hand to Danny's chest, as if feeling the beat of Danny's heart underneath it gave him strength.

"I've been denying what's between us," Steve said softly. "To protect me or to protect you...I don't know." Gently he rested the palm of his hand against Danny's cheek. "Unless…" Suddenly uncertain, Steve glanced down, his fingers twitching against Danny's slightly stubbly cheek, ready to pull back at the first sign he'd overstepped.

"You're not wrong, babe," Danny said hoarsely, leaning into Steve's palm, his blue eyes gleaming.

"You almost died," Steve's voice fell to a whisper. "And I knew I couldn't go my whole life without doing this…"

He bent down, dropping his lips on Danny's. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, with the promise of much more.

Danny grabbed Steve's lower lip with his teeth, he nipped and suckled it and he felt the shiver that ran down Steve's body.

Reluctantly Danny let go. Truth was he barely had enough energy to keep his eyes open. And as much as he wanted to ravish Steve McGarrett right then and there, his injuries had pretty much made that impossible.

"Took you long enough," Danny said reproachfully, shivering with pleasure as Steve raked his long slender fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp.

"Better late than never," Steve gave a chagrined smile. "Go back to sleep Danno."

"You'll be here?" Danny murmured, his eyelids growing heavier.

"Always," Steve whispered. He kissed Danny gently on the forehead.

Danny drifted to sleep, certain in the knowledge that the best was yet to come.

**The End**

**A/N: **First,huge thanks to my awesome beta JoaniexJony! You are the best my dear. Xoxo. I of course tinkered some more after you'd finished with it. All mistakes are mine.

Second, I am not a medical professional. I just love to whump Danny, have an active imagination and google. I apologize for any and all medical errors that ensue.

Finally, thank to everyone for reading, for following this story, and for leaving comments. I always appreciate you taking the time to read one of my stories and you have no idea how much your feedback makes my day! Mahalo!


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